The Doctor's Farewell
by Toaofwriting
Summary: Before he went off to fight the Last Great Time War, the Doctor went and said farewell to one of his oldest and best friends. Rated T for one swear word.


**This is set sometime right before the Doctor goes to fight the Last Great Time War. I thought that before he went off potentially to his death, he'd want to see one of his oldest and best friends. This story was also inspired by sudipal's excellent "Ten Farewells and One Hello," especially the Eighth Doctor's chapter. If ****Doctor Who** **belonged to me, the Paternoster gang would have their own spin-off show and the seventh Doctor and Ace would've come back. Since that isn't the case, I obviously don't own the show or any characters, etc. **

On the planet Earth, especially in the part of it generally known as "England," there are many gardens, and many of those gardens have houses attached to them. One of these houses was home to the great human known as Brigadier Alistair Gordon Lethbridge-Stewart, his wife Doris, and their daughter Kate. Out of nowhere, familiar rasping, groaning, wheezing sound started up, building and building until a blue box that hadn't been there a few moments ago now sat on the lawn, looking as if it had always been there. A man slipped out of the box. To someone who didn't know better, he would've looked like a more or less ordinary human, clad in a long green coat, waistcoat, and cravat. He had long brown wavy hair and blue eyes. Those who did know would have recognized him as the eighth incarnation of the Time Lord generally known as "the Doctor," although his enemies had many other names for him, several of which were not repeatable in polite company. He closed the doors of his TARDIS and strode quickly towards the house. He knocked on the door. Moments later, Brigadier Lethbridge-Stewart opened the door and smiled.

"Ah, Doctor, it's you again, isn't it?" he asked.

"Yes, it's me. The one and only."

"Now, we both know that's not entirely true, Doctor," said the younger man, leading him into the kitchen, where the kettle was boiling.

"Tea?" he asked. At his friend's nod, Lethbridge-Stewart poured it into two cups and inserted a couple of teabags. The Doctor took his mug and sat down, idly swirling the teabag in his.

"You've had lots of other selves, if I remember correctly," Lethbridge-Stewart commented as he sat down opposite the Time Lord.

"Yeah. But this might be my last."

The Brigadier sat up.  
"Why? What's happened?"

The one-word answer froze him to the bone.

"Daleks."

He leaped to his feet, a little wobbly because of his leg, but still determined.

"Where? I haven't heard about them, and UNIT's gone downhill since I've left, but surely-"

"They're not on your planet, Brigadier," said the Doctor sadly, taking out his teabag, putting it aside, and taking a sip. "They're on mine."

"And you're going to fight them?"

"Yes. It's full-out war now, Brigadier. Time Lords versus Daleks, with the whole of creation at stake."

"Then I'll come."

"No."

"What?" asked Lethbridge-Stewart. "Doctor, you have saved our planet dozens of times with little thanks and no reward. We may not always have seen eye-to-eye on everything, but I'll be damned if I let you go fight the Daleks without me. You need someone to watch your back, Doctor."

The Time Lord sighed and drank more of his tea.

"I can't, Brigadier. I'm sorry, but I can't. This is a Time War, and you're not time-sensitive. You'd never be able to cope. Believe me, though, I would rather have you at my back than just about any of the other Time Lords."

"I'm honored, Doctor," said the human, sitting down again. The Time Lord quirked a bitter smile.

"You shouldn't be, a lot of them are lazy, arrogant bureaucrats."

"Rather like my own species, then."

They shared a smile.

"Nah, though, because you know what? Your species is brilliant. All right, you make mistakes, but when you're at your best, you are just brilliant. Fighting against dangers from every corner of the universe, including your own planet, always trying to scale the next mountain, to go where no one's ever gone before-that's wonderful. Absolutely fantastic. And you, Alistair Lethbridge-Stewart, are one of the greatest humans this planet has ever produced. You're brave, you're reliable, and though you can sometimes be extremely thick, you have always stuck to your morals and done what you thought best. We may have had our arguments, but I have always respected you, and always will, long as I live."

"The same with you, Doctor. You got on my nerves a lot, what with your running about and scolding everyone who had a gun and reversing the polarity of the neutron flow, but I have to say, it's been a pleasure and an honor to work alongside you, all of these years."

"We've had some times, though. Daleks, Cybermen, Autons, Zygons, the Master, Omega, Rassilon…"

"Don't forget the Zodin."

A snort of amusement.

"How could I? Now, I'd better go. Can't keep those Daleks waiting," he said with a forced cheerfulness. The two men gripped hands, a mutual understanding passing between them.

He plonked the teacup down on the counter and both men rose. Lethbridge-Stewart saw him to the door.

"Doctor?"

"Yes?"

"Look after yourself. Just remember that there will always be a warm fire and a cuppa here if you need it. And blow up some Daleks for me, will you?"

The Doctor smiled.

"I will. Take care, Lethbridge-Stewart."

"And you."

The Time Lord turned and strode back to his TARDIS. He opened one door, then looked back and saluted his friend, also framed in the door of his own home. Brigadier Alistair Gordon Lethbridge-Stewart snapped a salute in return, and the Doctor nodded and disappeared into the TARDIS. A moment later, there was a thrum, and the box, instead of slowly fading from sight, shot straight up like a rocket and disappeared into the heavens.

And that was the last either man saw of the other for a long time.

"Good luck, Doctor," murmured his friend. He knew that the war with the Daleks would be terrible beyond measure. But he also knew that no matter what happened, the Doctor would survive, somehow, some way.

He always did.


End file.
